


so damn easy on the eyes

by hamiltrashed



Series: flooded my senses [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tiny plot twist at the end, Voyeurism, Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 09:52:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7613485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamiltrashed/pseuds/hamiltrashed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To put it simply, Thomas just wants to watch. </p><p>Senses Series | <b>Sense</b>: <i>sight</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so damn easy on the eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Skarlatha for temporarily betaing for me tonight! <3

Thomas’s eyes go wide, round, and even from where he’s sitting, Alex can practically see his pupils dilate. “You’re a tease,” he complains, and Alex just smiles, relaxes into the pillows, continues unbuckling his belt. Without Thomas in the bed, it’s easier to stretch out, to spread his legs and let Thomas see everything.

“Am I?” Alex asks, his voice utterly innocent. “I’m sorry, I can stop if you want.”

Thomas’s eyes sparkle and he smiles begrudgingly, leaning forward from his chair. “Don’t even think about it.”

Alex slides his belt out of the loops and holds it aloft. “Are you sure? I mean, it must be _hard_ being all the way over there, not being able to touch me...”

Thomas closes his eyes, steeples his fingers in front of his mouth and inhales sharply, as if Alex is testing his patience and he’s trying to regain it.  
  
And like Alex knew he would, Thomas says the words. “Don’t stop. Please. I just want to watch you.”

“Okay, okay,” Alex agrees, as if such a request would ever be a problem for him, show off that he is. He tugs his pants open and lifts his hips, shoving them down in one smooth motion.

There have been a few times like this, times where Thomas has watched, but they’ve all been accidents. They’ve all been moments where Alex has been caught at it like a horny teenager, and for a few minutes, they’ve kept their distance, Thomas watching, Alex pretending he doesn’t know he’s been seen. But it’s never been like this before, never occurred at Thomas’s request.

Alex’s heart pounds even though he’s not at all nervous. It’s different, beginning the act with eyes on him as opposed to being found midway through, but there’s something about it that makes him feel alive. Something that, without even putting a hand on himself, is already causing him to grow hard.

“You didn’t wear boxers today,” Thomas notes unnecessarily, and his hand stretches out for a brief second, but then he draws it back. “You _are_ a tease.”

Alex lets the corner of his mouth turn up in a taunting smirk, watches Thomas’s throat move as he swallows hard, then lifts his eyes to meet Thomas’s. He takes a deep breath, and without breaking eye contact, slowly curls a hand around himself.

Alex gasps at his own touch, his palm warm in the cool winter air that too often finds its way inside the poorly insulated walls of their apartment. He swallows too, lets his eyes fall to himself, watches the way the head of his cock thrusts up through the circle of his hand when his hips jerk upward. He spread his legs a little wider, shifts his pillows so he’s lying back just a little more, so Thomas can see more of his ass.

Alex doesn’t hesitate in swiping a finger across his tongue and slowly circling his entrance with it. His eyes find Thomas’s again, find them staring unceasingly, find his lips parted and his tongue wetting them in thirst. “That’s… _good_ ,” Thomas breathes. “So…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, but Alex imagines any number of words could go there. He urges Thomas to pick one. “So?” he prompts.

“Perfect,” Thomas concludes. “Look at you. Always look like you’ve never even been touched.”

Alex laughs. “Mm. But we both know that’s not the case. You can’t keep your hands off me.”

Thomas raises both hands in the air, both empty but fingers curled toward Alex, as if those hands know where they want to be, where they belong. “Not touching you now.”

“No,” Alex agrees. “Not right now.” He says it like a promise for later.

Thomas leans back in his chair, and Alex eyes his body, bites his lip and strokes just the slightest bit faster. Thomas epitomises sex, drips it from every pore, and (no pun intended), it’s hard for Alex to resist. In the end, he recognises that this, too, his need for Thomas and his inability to help himself, is part of the reason their fighting eventually turned to fucking. By that point, Alex had lost track of the amount of times he’d thought about bending over for Thomas, even as they’d argued bitterly with one another. If Thomas had asked, Alex would’ve been over his desk in a half second. All that wasted time. But they don’t waste it anymore. Even this is not time wasted, with Thomas merely watching and Alex laid bare in front of him.

Alex rolls his hips up into his fist, then brings his free hand up to his mouth, sucking on a couple of fingers. He drops any of the leftover innocence in his voice right then and there. “Want me to fuck myself for you?” he asks, treasuring the hitch in Thomas’s breathing, the way he tries to answer and has to clear his throat to get a simple, eager _yes_ to come out as it should.

Alex reaches back down between his legs and works one finger inside of himself. It’s easier now than it used to be, but Thomas hadn’t been wrong; he’s still tighter than even he thinks he has right to be. He groans, runs his thumb across the head of his cock again and again, coaxing himself into taking the second one a little easier. It’s nowhere near as good as having Thomas inside of him. He can’t reach the spot he wants to, not at this angle, and the thrust of his fingers is too shallow to really work him up the way Thomas does. But it’s good to just feel himself opening up around something, good to close his eyes for a brief second and imagine something better.

Thomas leans forward again, and Alex can hear how deep he’s breathing, watches his chest heave when he gasps. “So beautiful,” he tells Alex, in the same reverent voice he reserves for nature and books and his other favourite pleasures.

“Are you going to touch yourself?” Alex asks, even though he already knows the answer. From where he’s lying back, he can just see the way Thomas is tenting his pants, the way his body is begging for relief, for release. But he shakes his head.

“No. Just gonna watch you work. I love watching you work.”

Alex thinks that this is true, no matter the meaning. Thomas often does watch him while he works, lays beside him in the bed while he furiously types away on his laptop or his phone, and just admires the way he gets things done. “But you don’t always like the finished product,” Alex reminds him, and Thomas chuckles.

“Oh, but I’ll like this one. I’ll like it when you come with me watching you. With your fingers inside yourself, wishing it was me.”

Alex moans, acknowledges this with a nod.

“You’re better,” he says. “You do things to me in ways I could never hope to on my own. It’s why we’re so good together.”

“Never saw it coming,” Thomas lies. “Hamilton and Jefferson. A team. Together.”

“Mhmm,” Alex responds, playing along. “Who could’ve guessed.”

He rocks his hips up now, harder, faster, presses down onto his own fingers and then fucks up into his hand, bites his lip with no chance of keeping back all the moans that are just on the tip of his tongue. His eyes flutter closed and then open, find Thomas’s, and it’s exhilarating watching Thomas watch him.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of them both breathing, both making sounds of pleasure, and then Thomas, his voice barely a whisper, asks, “You gonna come for me soon?”

Alex lets out a breathless laugh. “Yes, already,” he says, and he’d be embarrassed but there’s no room for that here. There never has been, not in this room. Alex is quite sure that Thomas still disagrees with him on many things, still half-wants to throttle him at work whenever he opens his mouth to speak a bad word about something Thomas wishes to promote, but here, they are just with each other. Standing in opposition to one another gets so tedious, and in this room, they are just themselves, and they are each other, and sometimes they move so in sync with one another that they’re one person. Each moment is valued, no matter how long it lasts.

And this isn’t lasting long. Not at all. Not when Thomas is studying every inch of his body the way one studies a painting, as if trying to divine more meaning than is on the surface. So Alex touches himself the way Thomas would, and in some ways, it’s an unspoken promise that the only deeper meaning here is that Alex loves this man. No matter that he never wanted to, never tried to; he just loves him, and he thinks it’s easy for Thomas to see that lying naked and vulnerable in front of him is something Alex would never give to anybody he didn’t love.

Alex feels the tension at the base of his spine and deep in his belly starting to break up and spread through every bit of him like electricity. It feels like magic and fireworks and the kind of rain that replenishes. When he comes, it hits him full force like a train, and he forces himself to keep his eyes open and on Thomas despite the fact that he wants to close them and ride it out like a wave. He watches Thomas sink back into his chair, long legs looking an awful lot like an invitation, one hand resting just slightly above the buckle of his belt.

Alex shudders, body twitching even when he’s empty, even when he can give no more, not just now. His hand fumbles toward the table at the bedside for tissues but comes instead upon a stray t-shirt. Only after he’s cleaned himself up does he realise who it belongs to.

“That was mine, wasn’t it?” Thomas says dryly, but his eyes sparkle with amusement.

“Oops,” Alex says, and he sits up, stretches, and turns his body toward the bottom of the bed so he’s closer to Thomas.  
  
“Lucky I love you, little lion,” Thomas says, shaking his head.  
  
“I love you, too,” Alex replies, and he draws his laptop closer to him, blows a kiss at the screen that separates himself and Thomas, never mind the hundreds of miles. “Come home soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from Carly Simon's "Easy on the Eyes."


End file.
